


‘Lowering The Shield’

by eldritcher



Series: The Song of Sunset Third Age [8]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:18:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritcher/pseuds/eldritcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Legolas pleases Eowyn a great deal indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	‘Lowering The Shield’

Title: ‘Lowering The Shield’

 

* * *

“I will not be pawned away as the stepping stone for an alliance”, Eowyn said angrily, her eyes blazing furiously at her brother.

“Lord Faramir is the Steward of Gondor, and Aragorn is going to hand over Ithilien to him. He will be Prince then”, Eomer argued, “A marriage will strengthen the alliances between Gondor and Rohan. As a Princess of the Rohirrim, it is your duty!”

“What is my duty?” Eowyn asked incredulously, “To marry a man I don’t care for in the least?”

“I am marrying Imrahil’s daughter!” Eomer snarled, “You can do the same sacrifice!”

“You will marry her even when you bed boys half her age in Rohan! I don’t think you are sacrificing anything! If uncle had been here”, Eowyn started passionately, “He would never have even broached such an idea!”

“That was because he was too fond of watching you covertly!” Eomer snapped angrily, not seeing the stunned expression on his sister’s face, “Who knows what his lust-fogged, idle mind thought of all those years his young niece was caring for him?”

Eowyn stood shocked into numbness by her brother’s callous words before shaking herself to action and striding out of the room. She could hear him calling her back, but she rushed out of the chambers unheedingly.

“My Lady”, a deep, dwarvish voice made her hastily compose herself as she turned to face the speaker.

“Lord Gimli”, she smiled pleasantly, the etiquette of years falling over her features like a mask, “A good day, is it not?”

Curious, sharp eyes moved over her features carefully as Gimli spoke again, “I guess it is. Legolas wishes to try a few new horses that his father has sent him. I am needed at the smithy today and cannot join him. You know how the lad can be when he doesn’t have company. I would have asked Aragorn to keep an eye on him; but he is busy sorting out matters with Faramir. I could think of nobody else to keep an eye on the lad. You love horses too…”, he trailed away hopefully.

“Certainly”, Eowyn muttered with ill-grace, “Anything to keep you happy, My Lord Gimli”, she added under her breath, “And to get away from my brother.”

 

* * *

 

She found herself in the stables with a hyper-excited elf-prince and half-a-dozen magnificent stallions.

“EOWYN!” she smiled as he forgot to use her title, he was usually the epitome of court-manners. So the small slip spoke volumes of his excitement.

“COME HERE!” he called happily, “Aren’t they wonderful?”

Only a Rohirrim could understand him, she mused absently as she took in the magnificent animals that he seemed to be talking to animatedly.

“They are beautiful”, she agreed as she came forward to run her hands through the smooth, silky mane of the horse he seemed to be most enamoured by.

“He is a direct steed from my father’s stallion”, he explained, “It is so rare for my father to give away offsprings of his foundation sire. He must be really happy!”

“Aren’t we all happy?” she laughed at his enthusiastic bouncing up and down, “Sauron is gone.”

“Yes”, Legolas conceded, “Still, my father is rarely happy. Perhaps”, he trailed away into what Gimli would have termed a sudden elvish mood change, “After he sails, he will find a measure of happiness.”

“He is sailing soon?” Eowyn forgot her usual policy of not interfering in others’ personal affairs.

“With Elrond”, Legolas murmured, “They are good friends. I don’t know how I will bear the parting”, he shook his head and started again cheerily, “I heard from Arwen that we might be celebrating your nuptials soon.”

“Everybody except me is aware of my impending marriage”, Eowyn rolled her eyes, “But don’t be too sure. There is always the possibility that I might choose to escape; to Harad or Bree.”

“I didn’t know that Faramir was such a bad choice”, Legolas said seriously, “I have not had the honour of fighting beside him as I have fought beside you. And certainly, he is not deserving of the Shield Maid of Rohan. But it is your duty…”

“Don’t you have to marry for duty?” she asked bitterly, “Arwen married for duty, my brother is going to marry for duty. What of you?”

“I”, Legolas smiled amusedly, “My people are leaving these lands. There is nobody in the royal lineage left for me to court and marry!”

“But your father might ask you to marry someone he chooses after you sail?” Eowyn asked curiously, “After all, there will be lots of noblewomen there in Valinor.”

“He will not”, Legolas shrugged confidently, “Eowyn, my dear lady, May I tell you a secret that is not a secret?”

“Please do”, she laughed, “Are you in unrequited love with anyone?”

He groaned in mock horror before saying conspiratorially, “My father was born out of wedlock and my grandparents never married. My parents too were not married though they were betrothed. So, plainly speaking, I don’t think my father would ask me to marry given their record.’

“Wedlock?” Eowyn shuddered, “It is not looked upon favourably within our lands. Both Gondor and Rohan has rules to punish men and women who conceive a child from wedlock!”

“Well”, Legolas shrugged easily, “My grandparents had finished breaking these rules of men before kingdoms like Gondor and Rohan existed.”

She smiled helplessly at his languid, lithe form as he leant back against the stall, his green eyes amusedly watching her.

“Sometimes”, he said quietly as he returned to grooming the stallion, “I think you should have been born an elf…and that Arwen should have been born a mortal.”

“Why?” she asked surprised by his sudden statement.

“You are too good to be wasted on mortality”, he offered a smile as he turned to meet her eyes.

“Elves are strange creatures”, she remarked as she took up a currying brush and began grooming a stallion, “They say the strangest things.”

“So you say when you have not even met my father”, he laughed, “Then what will you say after you have met him?”

“How do you find us?” she asked curiously, “Uncivilized?”

“Of course not!” he said indignantly, “I have always been fascinated by the other races. I came to love the hobbit-kind during the long walk to Mordor. And dwarves too…Men”, he paused, “Men are still an enigma. I admire Aragorn, Faramir, Eomer, the valiant Boromir and so many more I had the honour to fight beside. I envy them for their undying hope. But”, he paused, “I don’t appreciate their caging the women. I have found that the desire to dominate is more amongst the males of your kind.”

“You don’t dominate your women folk?” she asked quietly as she thought of her brother’s arrogance, “From what I have seen of your women, be it Galadriel or Arwen, they are quite strong-willed.”

“No”, he shook his head decisively, “We have equality whether we be lovers or spouses or siblings…Perhaps it is because that is the only way to make a marriage last for eternity!” he smiled mischievously.

They fell silent, each deep in their own thoughts. The impatient tapping of the hooves of the horses was the only sound in the deserted stables.

“Eowyn”, he broke the silence finally, a pensively sympathetic look on his face, “Marry him. He has always been said to be a fair man…Perhaps you might find love or in the least true respect and understanding.”

“And Ithilien is said to be a wonderful place”, he added quietly when she did not reply, “You can always escape together for long rides in the woods.”

“Rides in the woods”, she laughed bitterly, “Faramir hates riding. It was one of the first things I enquired.”

“I don’t hate riding”, Legolas smiled, “And neither does Gimli, though he tries to pretend as if he does!”

“You will be in Gondor and Gimli in the glittering caves”, she said shortly.

“No”, he laughed, “I will be in Ithilien. I cannot stay in a stone-city of men, Eowyn. I would lose whatever sanity I have. And I am sure that we can always persuade Gimli for visits.”

“You are luring me into marriage with offers of riding trips”, she said flatly, “Whatever makes you think I would accept that?”

“Eowyn”, he said patiently, “Your brother is now King”, he shook his head, “He is afraid of the power you might have over the Rohirrim. It was you and not he, who killed the wraith. He knows, deep within his heart, that you are far worthier than him. So he is determined to get you out of his hair, figuratively speaking.”

“Is there no escape?” she said furiously, “I feel as if even Grima gave me more choice!”

“Grima was a blackguard”, Legolas said with quiet venom, “And it has been my greatest regret that I could not slay him.”

She sighed as she tried to control the burning, prickly sensation in the corners of her eyes.

“Eowyn”, he placed a slender, graceful hand on her shoulder, “Listen to me. Marry Faramir for the sake of appearances. Come to Ithilien. I will stay there as long as you wish me to. I will support you. If ever a day comes when you find a person you love, come to me. I will see to it that you can be with that person.”

“Faramir and not to mention, Aragorn and Eomer, would kill you”, Eowyn chuckled weakly as she gently pried off his hand from her shoulder. The simple touch had made her on the verge of bursting into tears then and there.

“I don’t think Gimli would allow that”, he smiled, “Now, Eowyn, just remember that you can always come to me. I saw your grief at Lord Theoden’s funeral…You loved him as a father. I too, will be parted from my father for a very, very long time. We can always support each other. It is no fun being a lone elf in a kingdom of men.”

“My company cannot make you forget that”, she chided him half-heartedly, “Neither can Gimli’s.”

“But I have felt that the two of you are more elven than many elves I have met”, he laughed as he swiftly moved in to peck a chaste kiss to her forehead, as once her uncle used to, she remembered sadly.

“You are quite nimble for your age”, she remarked caustically, eliciting yet another bout of melodious laughter from her companion, “A race?”

“Why not? You may find that I am younger than I look”, he promised teasingly as they walked out of the stables together, leading their stallions.

She felt the familiar visceral thrill of competition ride high in her blood as she mounted her stallion. Spurring on her stallion, she laughed in the simple joy of having the wind whip through her hair.

He turned to face her, his green eyes sparkling in understanding and goodwill. She nodded, she would make it work.

She was, after all, too brave to daunted by something as trivial as her brother’s goading and dark fears.

 

* * *

 

 

They rode down the plains of the river Pelennor until she called for a halt beside the water. She drew her mount to a stop and gasped to even her breathing. Legolas leapt off his horse and walked over to help her dismount.

“Tired?” he asked warmly as she leant onto him to balance herself, feeling the familiar giddiness after a long ride.

“Of course not!” she panted, “The Rohirrim are tired only when they away from their horses!”

“Riding horses is a pleasurable pursuit”, he said mischievously, “The same can be said for other means of riding too…”

“Mean you what?” she raised an eyebrow even as her heartbeat quickened from the sudden darkening of his green eyes.

“I am an elf. It is not in my nature to hide what I feel”, he averted his eyes to examine the boats on the river, “I sense much of myself in you.”

“I don’t deny that what you hint at is not unpleasant to me”, she said quietly, his eyes met her sapphire ones with a measure of hope and respect, something that she knew she would never see in Faramir’s eyes, “But”, she said determinedly, “I have always been forthright. And so I will be with you. There is a world apart between you and me. And I hate being made the subject of well-meant pity.”

“There are always bridges between worlds apart”, he said seriously, all traces of mischief and light-heartedness vanishing from his features, “I am not seeking to exploit the situation or your frustration now. I know how you loathe pity, and I promise that now, I approach you with more than mere sympathy or a desire to provide comfort to a fellow warrior. I respect you too much to do that.”

She did not reply as she mounted her stallion again, her eyes still intently on his face. He cleared his throat and said quietly, “You are intelligent enough to make the best of choices. I would only reassert that I am always willing to help you. I never meant to lose your friendship with my frankness.”

She left him behind as she rode back to Minas Tirith, her thoughts as violent and uneasy as the wind that battered her.

 

* * *

 

“My Lady!” Gimli sounded relieved, “Where is the lad?”

“I left him at the river-side”, she said testily, “Certainly, he is old enough to return alone!”

“He’s young…In human terms, he’s just in his early twenties”, Gimli said quietly, “I cannot help being concerned about him. He is in a strange land after all.”

“I am sorry”, Eowyn said contritely, “Sometimes he speaks so boldly and wisely that I cannot just recognize he is young.”

“That would be his father’s fault”, Gimli chuckled, “The old magnificent fool would have never imagined his spoilt, much-doted-upon son living here with only a dwarf for company.”

“You spoil him just as much, if not more”, she said frankly.

 

* * *

 

Eowyn lingered in the stables impatiently waiting for him to return. As she paced the length of the stable for the twentieth time, a dishevelled elf-prince led in a thoroughly disgruntled stallion.

“Where were you?” she asked concernedly even as he jerked slightly on seeing her emerge from the shadows. She frowned, that his usually sharp senses had not seen her was strange.

“I have never done this before, you know”, he spoke matter-of-factly in a hollow, detached tone as he stabled the stallion and began grooming it.

“Done what?” she asked bewildered.

“Trying to tell a woman that I like her”, he shrugged, “I have never liked anyone that deeply to admit that. This was”, he seemed to be searching for words, “The first time I ‘took the plunge’ as they say.”

“I am sorry”, she tentatively placed a hand on his shaking wrist.

“Don’t”, he shook his head firmly, “I don’t take to well-meant pity either.”

She cast her mind about wildly for the right thing to say. But she could find nothing. Then she remembered Aragorn kissing his queen after the war. Gathering up all her courage and laying her pride to rest, she rose to her toes and leant in to brush his lips with hers. She stepped away shocked at herself, shaking uncertainly and feeling as nervous and anxious as she had been when she had first appeared before her uncle in male costume worried if Theoden might recognize her.

He stiffened, his eyes wide-open, betraying a multitude of turbulent emotions. Then he raised his fingers slowly to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. He took a deep breath and then extended his fingers to reverently touch her jaw.

The touch broke something walled up so tightly within her soul that she had not even realized of its existence. She smiled nervously and raised her hands to cup his face as she again reached up to kiss him wildly. Their lips met once again as she brought her arms to entwine his lithe form and gripped him tightly. They held onto each other with the fervour of souls seeking the last hope.

Finally she broke away saying breathlessly, “That was the most magical moment in my life.”

He did not reply; instead tracing the curves of her face with reverence.

“I am sorry that it was not as sophisticated as the ones you might have grown to expect”, she said frankly, “I did what I wanted to do…but I don’t have much idea how to do these things.”

“What makes you think I have?” he finally spoke, as he met her eyes with a mix of hope, desire and fear warring on his features, “But I am happy that it is with you that I start my forays into new territory.”

She stilled, as she took in the import of his words. She remembered Gimli’s caution, that Legolas was too young.

“You could do much better to wait for one of your own kind”, she said half-heartedly even as her fingers inexorably moved towards his body seeking to explore and discover.

“You could do much better if you would not speak so”, he breathed in a low, desire-laden tone, pulling her hands to the buttons of his silken tunic.

She nodded and fumbled with her shaking fingers to divest him of his tunic, his harshening breathing driving her to distraction. He seemed not to get enough of her as his fingers restlessly and awkwardly moved along her face, neck and arms. But he was certainly a fast learner; his natural grace aiding his cause. She gasped as he lowered his lips to her collar bone, undoing the buttons on the front of her gown with elegant clumsiness that made her smile.

He stepped back with a furious blush on his features as he regarded her naked form with curiosity and desire warring for dominance on his face. She watched him shiver slightly under her steady regard, his ribs heaving under his skin.

“Let me”, she murmured as she fumbled with the intricate ties of his leggings, “Isn’t it hard to undo these ties everytime you undress?”

“It is”, he whispered hotly as her fingers brushed him, “But I had never noticed the point before.”

She slid his leggings down his thighs finally gazing upon his form…lithe, slender, yet stronger than the men of her own kind. A paradox, he was, in everything.

They embraced each other passionately, exploring the warmth of each other’s bodies in earnest. She felt his breathing rate increase suddenly and he buried his face in the crook of her neck gasping as he climaxed. A strange, intimate, yet not so unwelcome scent pervaded the air and an unfamiliar sticky, warm yet wet residue clung to their bodies, the remains of his passion.

“Oh”, he whispered as her arms entwined about him once again.

“That is all you can say”, she laughed breathlessly as he kissed her again with passion and skill, inhibitions fading away from his eyes.

“I will say more the next time”, he promised making her laugh again. He smiled with a strange mix of bashful pride and new found happiness.

“I can’t then wait for the next time”, she said quietly, her eyes warm and sincere as they regarded him.

 

* * *


End file.
